Darkness Rising
by Mistress Sorcha
Summary: The evil that had been building has finally come to fruition....Sam is claimed by Samael and Dean's true purpose is finally revealed....


Sam stood before him, his tall, familiar form no longer the man he should be…Sam…Sammy….was gone forever. He was what he had fought for so long. He was what Dean had tried desperately to hold back into the darkness…to save his little brother from becoming. He had failed. Dean knelt before him, the devastating sadness of the loss and the terrible madness of his own resounding failure left him crushed and broken, kneeling, weeping…dying inside. Sam, he thought, I'm sorry I failed you….His bowed head showing his surrender. Dean welcomed death. He knew he would not have to go to Hell this time, for Hell would come to him instead….He wept not only for his failure to save his last remnant of family, the one thing he had to live for, but for his failure to save the rest of the world as well. All the innocent people, all now doomed to feel the utter agony and torment of Hell. Sam was no longer the man he loved…the brother he fought and died for…Sam…was Samael, the one who would raise Lucifer. The one who would tear the world down to the ground and usher its unsuspecting and undeserving occupants into the grim fate of Hell on Earth…

Samael stood over the mortal, his gaze full of fire. The flames within them flickering brightly where his mortal forms' golden brown eyes once reigned. He considered the man before him briefly. He was of no concern any more, just one more soul to suffer unto him as he brought the Reign of Mankind to it's inevitable conclusion. His lips broke in a terrible death's-head grin and a wicked, harrowing laugh bellowed forth from the mortal body's lungs….

Dean's mind cringed away from the once so familiar and treasured sound. It was so vastly different now. It was dark…hollow…There was nothing of what had once such beautiful music to Dean's ears. There was nothing left of Sammy in it that made it whole and melodious as it should have been. Dean was almost gone inside, the unbearable weight of all his monumental failure crushed the soul of the man once known as Dean Winchester under its foot, grinding him into nothingness…

It was then he felt the shift. Subtle at first, the darkness receded….The crushing weight began to lift. Dean felt power being poured into his devastated soul. He felt peace…grace…In his mind's eye, he felt most incredible warmth and love he'd ever felt flow over him. His senses ran amuck with the awe and wonder of it. In his mind's eye, the world was pure and bright. The unholy darkness and ruin was washed away by a flood of crystalline energy. The prismatic play of colors that had never graced mortal realms washed shone delicately over the crisp space in his mind. Dean felt the sorrow still, but he felt hope and peace there as well, reigning in the seemingly overwhelming tide that had held him prisoner for the span of his mortal days. The tide that had grown exponentially during his year long death watch, continuing to expand at breath-stealing magnitude after his fall to Hell, and which had grown to world-stopping potential after his resurrection. He found he wept now with as much joy as he did the sorrow and pain. He felt a familiar, firm grip upon his shoulder. His wide-eyed gaze shifted upward to peer upon the piercing gaze of Castiel, his true form lay just beneath the surface of his mortal sheath. Dean's mind was searing and teeming with the sheer power of the Angel of the Lord beside him. It was almost more then he could bear. Castiel's head was tilted fondly down to him, his eyes shone with shades of blue that seemed unearthly in their purity and the light shown out of them was of the deepest respect and caring toward him. Dean's heart flooded with gratitude and relief. Castiel gently pulled Dean up to stand before him. It was time. Dean was being called, and Castiel was the messenger. He would bring Dean forth to his true purpose…

"Stand, Dean Winchester. I am to bring you forth to you purpose. It is time for you to be called upon, time for you to fulfill your destiny…." Castiel's voice was a thunderous presence to his mind. He knew Cas held back the full power of his voice. There were few mortals strong enough to withstand the full measure of it. Dean's vividly emerald eyes met his, the wonder being replaced with confusion. "My true purpose?..." he said, his voice trembling from the overwhelming situation in which he found himself….

"Dean Winchester, it is time for all to be revealed…" Castiel said, his voice softer…."It is time for you to know, time for you to see….." Castiel gripped Dean's shoulder with one hand and brushed the creased brow of his human charge lightly with his fingertips. Dean's eyes closed and his body started to drift to the ground. Castiel gently guided him to lay down in the light-filled space. Dean's prone form was still, at rest for the first time since he had rise from Hell. Castiel knelt close to him. He placed one hand on Dean's heart and the other on his brow. He called forth the light within him, channeling it through himself and letting it flow into Dean's still body. Dean's body arched harshly as the intensity of the energy being poured into him crashed through his limited form. He gasped, his arms draping down on either side of him as his body arched in an impossible bow. The breath was stolen from his lungs. He could See….He could See everything…. His mind throbbed, threatening to overload at the terrible power swallowing him whole. Too much…too much to take…He gasped, his body locked in a rigid arch as his muscles stopped following his mind's will. His face distended in pain and he cried out in agony as the massive flow of power tore through his senses, burning out his nerves. They misfired, causing intermittent spikes of numbness and pain. It felt as if there was no end to the raw power being forced into his body. It felt as it he was an bowling ball that was being forced through an opening meant for a pea. His whole frame shuddered as he cried out in a torrent of pain-fueled bursts, as tears flooded from his clenched eyes…

Castiel held onto the harrowed form beneath his grasp, the force of the energy flowing through him into Dean all the knowledge, all the things Dean must know. It was a terrible burden to ask the man to bear, especially after all he had already endured. It was a so vast, too vast for a single mind to behold, but Dean was not given the choice. Castiel had to do as his Father had willed, and so it would be done. He silently prayed for Dean. He was a good man. The task he was to undertake was enough to break lesser men. Dean was stronger even than he knew. Castiel shook harshly. He knew he must maintain the connection a little longer. His breath was coming in ragged gasps, his brow deeply creased as his muscles locked in pain. He cried out as the last of the energy and information flowed out of him into Dean. He fell back, his eyes falling open in shock. His panting breaths sounded ragged as he greedily gasped in air to his host's form. He couldn't move for an eternity, it seemed, but then Dean's limp form shocked him back to life. He rocked himself onto his side and struggled to his knees, intending to stand, but he fell over. Castiel half-dragged, half-crawled his body to Dean's side. The familiar rhythm of Dean's breathing was conspicuously absent. Castiel placed his had on Dean's chest, willing energy in to his bodily systems. They refused to cooperate at first. He frowned deeply as he pushed himself harder. He sent a massive jolt into Dean's system. Dean sat bolt-upright, a terror-filled scream issuing from his throat. He gasped in breath, panting, having to work desperately hard for each peal of oxygen. Tears flowed down his face as he turned his gaze toward Castiel. His eyes glowed unnaturally bright for a few moments before settling back into their normal, deep depths….


End file.
